Chapter Thirty-Three – A.J. #2
“So, are we reconciled?” I ask and continue before she answers: “Perfect, but we still need to go a little higher.”
I look for the escalator that will take us to the second floor.
As soon as we arrive, Alexandra doesn’t move.
She looks around at the one hundred eighty degrees with a unique smile on her face.
I’ve been sharing life with this girl for the last seven months, but I’ve never seen her smile so wide, so genuinely happy, and I thank the heavens that her desire to watch the sunset in a perfect place will be one of my few memories of that night.
“There are binoculars over there if you want…”
Alexandra doesn’t even let me finish. She hands me the cup and runs toward one with a nearly childlike smile on her face. In seconds, she calls me, saying I need to see it.
What she’s showing me is the huge buildings that block the view, but for some reason, she loves it.
“There’s another place I need to take you, but we need to talk first.”
“Another?” she asks with bright eyes, and I nod as soon as she takes her first sip of her hot chocolate. “Wow, much better than those bad cafés... A little cold, but I’ll blame the weather for that.”
“Thanks, I’d hate to be without my ride.”
“I’ll take you back, don’t worry,” she assures with a wink, and I touch my chest in relief. “And... do you want to talk about that night?”
I can’t identify the emotion in her voice, I don’t know if it’s anxiety or forced relaxation, but that doesn’t matter. The cold breeze hits us, and she shivers. Any other day, Alexandra would’ve leaned in. Any other day, I would’ve wrapped my arms around her. But today is different.
“No.” My answer surprises her. I shift my weight and slip my hands into my pockets before speaking again.
“We’re not talking about that night because I don’t want to keep talking about that as if it were the only thing that matters.
However , things are confusing, and this thing about you avoiding me. ..”
“I wasn’t avoiding you,” she interrupts me, taking a sip of her drink. “I was avoiding this conversation.”
“Why?”
“At this point, we don’t need to beat around the bush, do we?
” Alex asks with a wary look, and I assure her we don’t.
“To be honest, I don’t regret what happened between us at Guilherme’s, saying that would be a lie,” she begins, walking toward one of the wooden benches near the wall.
“But if I could go back in time, I would have done things differently.” I raise an eyebrow as we sit down.
“You’re my first friend after... everything, and this thing between us, this tension.
.. I hated feeling that.” She says angrily then brings the paper cup to her lips without looking at me, but the chocolate’s already cold.
I know it tastes awful, and I also know she’s not looking at the horizon because of the sunset. I click my tongue and hold the cup, taking it from her hand.
“Give me that. No need to hide, not with me.” Alex nods, holding back a laugh.
“When I met you, you were Guilherme’s hot friend, then the talented girl for my duet, and then someone I liked having around,” I enumerate the simple things, but her eyes meeting mine remind me she’s not just that.
“In a way, almost as if it was written somewhere, you became my friend, and I let you see places no one else ever saw... Those days apart hurt me, not because of what happened between us, but because they made me feel like the coolest thing I built after Vicious was weak .”
“You know that’s not true.” She gasps almost offended.
“That’s how I felt. You avoided me so much, Alexandra, that I didn’t see you for days, and we share a house.”
“I talked about us with Thalia on Monday. About Brittany, the tension, the kisses, the night of drinking... Talking to her made me realize you’re much more important than I thought, and the possibility of messing it all up with something so...”
“Something so?”
“Fleeting,” she says, leaving me unsure of what to do.
“You might not like me that way, I don’t even know if I like you as more than a friend,” I lie shamelessly because she’d freak out if she knew the truth. “But we would never be something fleeting for me.”
The words come out firm, and Alexandra blinks twice before looking away and then back at me with a smile.
“Oh, come on, A.J., I can’t even picture you in a relationship.”
“Because I like kissing people?” I laugh, surprised at how prudish she’s being.
“I like kissing too, but I don’t go around doing it with a different person every day.”
“Maybe if I had the same mouth to kiss every day, I wouldn’t be looking for others…” I shrug.
“Anthony…” she scolds, leaning away, but the mischievous smile is there.
“Would it be easier for you if I didn’t kiss fans?”
“Oh gosh, no,” she says, as if I’m talking nonsense. “A contemporary Brazilian philosopher once said, ‘If it’s washed, it’s new.’ So as long as you brush your teeth, that wouldn’t be an issue.”
I don’t laugh, but I let out a relieved sigh.
“Oh, great. At least I won’t be written off as the promiscuous bisexual.”
But this worry has nothing to do with her. It’s just that… people love labels. They stick them on your forehead before they even bother to learn your name. And the most pathetic part? It’s none of their business, but they still want you to know just how uncomfortable your existence makes them feel.
“Jeez, calm down. It’s not like there’s a new sex tape of you every week. Why would anyone label you like that?”
“You know… If I only kissed women, I’d be the guy who ‘knows how to live.’ But since I kiss guys too…”
“Wow, people are so 1990’s sometimes,” she says, and I can’t hold back a laugh.
“They’re ridiculous, but anyway, you’re not going to date me, so let’s leave my kissing habits out of this. Where are we now?” I ask directly, because I don’t want to go home and keep tiptoeing around her.
She stares at me in silence. Probably pondering our friendship and ‘that thing between us, that tension’ she mentioned before.
“We promised nothing would change after the kiss, and there’s no reason to change now. If something happened, I hope our drunk versions enjoyed it,” she whispers in my ear like a secret.
“They didn’t,” I say firmly, and she frowns. “I’d never do anything with a drunk girl. That’s not who I am.”
“Well, we drank a lot. And I might or might not be a horny drunk.”
I swallow hard as the information hits all the wrong parts of my body.
“Yeah, they say that alcohol reveals who you really are…” I tease and she shrinks. “And I’m not that person,” I assure her, touching her hand between us.
Alexandra caresses my face with her free hand, and the cold touch almost makes me tense up, but the touch feels too good, so I stay where I am.
“You’re not. You’re the Golden Boy who leaves food for the girl who’s running away from you.
.. and leaves your own house just so she can feel more comfortable.
” Alexandra smiles with tenderness in her eyes, and I hold myself back from hugging her.
“I have no idea how I managed to go four days without you. Did you know that?”
“It must have been suffering, but I forgive you for the cold treatment.”
“And I forgive you for convincing me that drinking would be a good way out.” Alexandra narrows her eyes at me. “But one thing’s for sure, you know how to apologize to a girl...” she says, pointing to the view.
“It’s not over yet.” I extend my hand to her and pull her closer, throwing my arm over her shoulders.
We arrive at the third floor, where the Skylift is. It’s an open-air platform with a three hundred sixty-degree view of the entire city through panoramic windows that give the sensation of floating above the city, seeing everything from the best angle at the highest point.
“I had no idea it could get better! My God.” Alexandra walks back and forth, trying to see as much as possible.
“Come here, let me show you a few things.” She doesn’t think twice, just comes up and stops in front of me.
“That’s the Empire State. There’s the Hudson.
” I point to the huge river that flows in front of our house.
“And that over there…” I point to the green expanse, but she turns to me, with a huge smile on her face.
“It’s Central Park,” she says with the voice of someone saying, “Where we haven’t been yet.” “I’m getting repetitive, but it’s beautiful!”
“It really is. I’m so glad you like it.”
“Like it?” Alexandra pulls her hands from her coat pockets and places them around my neck. “I loved it, A.J. Thank you, really.” She pulls away as if hugging me made her feel awkward now. “You have no idea how important this is to me.”
“Maybe I do…” I joke, but the girl in front of me, emotional, has no idea why. “Promise me something?” I ask, and Alexandra raises an eyebrow, waiting for me to finish. “Can we never be weird with each other again?”
I raise my pinky finger, and her face lights up.
“You have my word!” Alexandra smiles and kisses my finger before letting go of it. “And let’s watch two movies when we get home in honor of the good old days,” she half-promises, half-proposes, as if she isn’t talking about just two weeks ago.
With the friendship pact restored, Alexandra leaves me and continues walking around the platform, smiling and with her eyes glued to every detail of the city.
I feel like going to her. Wrapping her in my arms and never letting go. Being her human shield against the cold wind and everything else that ever hurt her. But I know that’s impossible.
So, I focus on the here and now, where I might not remember everything that happened that fateful night, but I remember every single thing she and her mom had on their impossible dream list. And maybe I can’t make this girl fly, but at least I can give her the most beautiful sunset in the city.
The platform starts descending again, and Alexandra comes up to me, stopping at my side. Without saying anything, she rests her head on my arm. I kiss her hair impulsively, and Alexandra looks at me, squinting, but then returns her head to rest there, making me laugh.
“This is an interesting little relationship you and I have,” I say when we head back down.
“It’s my favorite relationship,” she throws the words at me like a hammer, leaving me with my jaw dropped and my heart racing.
***
Talking with Alexandra yesterday was essential.
I was already ready to play the “we have a show tomorrow, we can’t be fighting” card, but it wasn’t necessary.
One moment, we were at home, me on the couch and her in the hallway, like an abyss separated us, and the next, it was just the two of us again, at the top of the world, almost literally.
So, I don’t exactly understand what kind of nervousness makes her mess up the first chorus of “Maybe,” nor do I know how I mess up the keys for the melody we’ve been playing for the last six months. But we laugh together while the audience sings, unaware of the mess we’re making.
Alex tosses her hair back, revealing the neckline of her playsuit, lit only by the thousands of lights pointed at us in that exact moment.
My gaze drops to the curve between her breasts, and she notices.
Jaw slightly dropped, Alexandra shakes her head in silent disapproval.
When I look back up, she blinks and gives me a soft smile and that’s when I realize:
There’s nothing wrong. We’re just happy to be us again.
Her fingers rest over mine on the keys, a quiet agreement to let the crowd carry this part. And when the chorus comes back around, we share a look. No need for words, it’s time. We sing together, eyes locked, and the audience carries us, not missing a beat.
At the end of the song, she lifts her chin, and I understand immediately it’s my cue. I lower my forehead to hers to close our set. But in that moment, the most captivating girl I’ve ever known smiles at me, her eyes filled with pure joy, while the crowd screams around us like thunder.
And as I rest my forehead against hers, I know:
There’s no chance anyone else will be this close to me tonight.